


if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones

by unforgvnsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Has Abandonment Issues, Gen, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Dean Winchester, Impala, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester, Season/Series 02, The Winchesters Do Not Understand The Concept Of Personal Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:36:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unforgvnsam/pseuds/unforgvnsam
Summary: “S-Sam…” Dean gasps in a breath of air. He’s losing too much blood. Fuck. “Sam, what are you…” A gagging cough this time. “Where are you going? Don’t leave me, Sammy.” His voice cracks with panic when he says leave, and his fingers grip Sam’s shirt even tighter.





	if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones

**Author's Note:**

> it's pretty gen but it's also set in s2 so their beautifully fucked up dynamic is in full swing and they’re really touchy and close so take it as you will. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> requested on Tumblr [@unforgvnsam](http://unforgvnsam.tumblr.com).

Shit like this isn’t supposed to happen. Dean isn’t supposed to get hurt. Not hurt enough to die. Not again. Sam can’t do this. Not  _again_. **  
**

_Fuck_. Dad’s gone, and he can’t lose Dean too. Hell, last time Dean was dying, Dad traded his soul. This time, God only knows, Sam might end up doing the same thing. He’s just not sure he can tolerate losing Dean so soon. He can’t.

Sam grips Dean tighter around the shoulders, trying to figure out whether helping him across the field to the Impala or leaving Dean to go get the Impala is a better idea. He was attempting the first idea but they’d made it as far as the entrance to the barn and Dean can barely limp along. He’s obviously trying not to show how much pain he’s in for Sam’s sake, but Sam  _knows_  his big brother. Knows his facial expressions and the jokes he’s making to keep them both calm. Or attempting to keep them  _calmer_  at the very least.

Sam’s brain is going into overdrive and it’s not helping with the decision-making. Dean is the one bleeding out and dying, but Sam is the one who’s  _hurting_. He needs to help his brother. Needs to. That’s all that matters right now. Saving Dean. Getting him to safety.

He forces himself to focus on that, and it’s barely working, but it’s working. He slowly starts to let go of Dean as he attempts to gently help him sit down on the ground next to the sliding door, still holding his arm to support him. Dean stiffens, refusing to allow Sam to let him go, eyes wide, his other hand desperately grabbing at the front of Sam’s shirt.

“S-Sam…” Dean gasps in a breath of air. He’s losing too much blood.  _Fuck_. “Sam, what are you…” A gagging cough this time. “Where are you going? Don’t leave me, Sammy.” His voice cracks with panic when he says  _leave_ , and his fingers grip Sam’s shirt even tighter.

“No, Dean,  _no_. I’m not leaving you.” They’re still standing because Dean’s knees are locked, like he thinks he’ll be alone as soon as he collapses on the dirty, hay-strewn ground. “I’m not.” Sam tries to get a better grip on his flannel, which is off and pressed against the gaping stab wound in Dean’s stomach. His own stomach twists violently when he accidentally lets himself think about how Dean’s blood is covering his hand. Drenching both Sam and Dean at this point. “I’m not leaving you, Dee. Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”

Dean nods sluggishly, less terrified, his death grip loosening slightly.

“Do you want me to bring the Impala here, De—”

Dean’s eyes widen again, pupils blown in panic. “ _No_. Don’t leave.” His hand comes up to press against Sam’s neck, nails digging into Sam’s skin. “Don’t leave me alone, Sammy.” His words come out in a pleading whisper this time, and Sam swallows hard. “There could still be… There could still be vampires. Don’t go.”

“They’re dead, Dean. I killed them after you went down. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Sam can’t get the Impala now. Dean is too anxious and confused and he’ll just lose more blood if he starts thrashing in panic. “But you’re right. It’s a stupid plan. We’re sticking together.”

“We always stick together, right, Sammy?” The sting in the back of Sam’s neck lessens as Dean relaxes a little, like he’s trying to pull himself together, even though he’s delirious as fuck from the lack of blood. He laughs, and Sam tries to ignore how strained and forced it comes out. “Besides, Sammy. If I go down now, I’m not getting back up.”

“That’s not  _funny_ , Dee. And it’s not true.”

They both know it’s true.

“Awh, come on. It’s a little funny.”

Sam knows it’s true and that’s why it’s not funny. Dean knows it too, but he’s still smiling up at Sam with a crazy, fake grin.

Suddenly it disappears and the scared look is back on his face. “Don’t let me go down though.”

“I won’t, Dean. I won’t.” Sam moves slightly. “Here, give me your hand… Yeah, down here. I’m holding the flann— Okay, you need to keep it pressed against your wou—”

“I know… I know how to cover a damn stab…” Dean’s voice trails off for a second as his eyes droop.

“ _Hey_ , stay with me, dude. Don’t you dare pass out on me.”

“I know how to do it, okay?” His words are slurred and he sounds like a petulant five year old, and Sam smiles tiredly.

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

Sam lets go of the flannel after making sure Dean is holding it well enough. His hand moves to gently hold Dean’s face, ignoring the fact that he’s getting Dean’s own blood on his cheek and chin. “Just stay with me, you hear? I’m not leaving you but you can’t leave me either. I can’t lose someone else. I can’t.”

“I ain’t… I ain’t goin’ anywhere, Sam—Sammy. Prom— _promise_.” His words are coming out weaker and weaker, but he’s smiling up at Sam softly. He’s still hanging on. He’s gonna keep hanging on. Sam can’t let himself think anything else.

“Good… Good, yeah.” Sam shifts, helping Dean put his arm over Sam’s shoulders as he moves his own arm to Dean’s waist. He covers Dean’s hand with his own again to help with the blood flannel, trying not to hug Dean too tightly and too desperately against him. “You think you can try walking again?”

Dean looks queasy at just the thought but he nods.

They make it to the Impala almost twenty minutes later, having to pause multiple times in their awkward limping across the still somewhat muddy field. Sam opens the passenger door to help Dean in but Dean shakes his head vigorously.

“Sam, you have to… um, uh…  _towel_. Towel for the, uh, blood.” Dean can barely keep his head up and he definitely can’t stand on his own, but his voice is insistent. “I don’t… Upholstery… Clean her…”

Sam has to force himself not to snap about how if they don’t get Dean to a hospital quickly enough, Dean won’t be  _around_  to do any cleaning, but he makes sure Dean’s leaning against the side of the car before he opens the trunk and grabs the towel Dean always insists on using if one of them is bleeding. He drops his machete in without caring where it goes in the organized mess, and slams the trunk closed.

“ _Easy_ , man.” Dean somehow finds the energy to glare at Sam when he’s close enough to see him in the dark. Sam rolls his eyes, but he feels inexplicably guilty for possibly causing Dean unnecessary anxiety. Sam lays the towel down on the leather bench seat and straightens up, grabbing Dean’s arm to help him sit down.

Dean collapses against him as soon as Sam touches him, and Sam stumbles slightly, trying to keep them both on their feet, wrapping his arms around Dean. “Yo,  _Dee_. You okay?” He doesn’t respond right away and Sam isn’t breathing. “ _Dean_.”

“‘M, okay, Sammy.” His words come out muffled against Sam and Sam whispers a relieved, “Oh, thank God. Thank fuck. I…”

“Sorry, ‘m just… really tired.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Yeah.” Sam’s breathing again, no matter how erratic, trying not to show how panicked he is at Dean’s condition. “Just hang on until I get you to the hospital, dude. Hang on.”

“’M hangin’ on.” His chapped lips move against Sam’s neck. “I ain’t leavin’ you, Sammy.”

“Here, let’s get to you in the car. Come on.”

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

Dean shakes his head and looks up at Sam, his hand coming up to Sam’s cheek. “N-nothing. I just… I love you, Sammy.” Dean’s voice cracks and Sam is holding up all his weight at this point.

“I  _know_ , Dean. I know. Why are you telling me?” Sam knows that too but he doesn’t want it to be true.

“Jus—” He coughs again and it just  _sounds_  painful to Sam’s ears. “Just in case I—”

“No,  _fuck_  you, Dean. There’s no ‘just in case.’ You’re gonna be fine. Just get in the car.” Sam can’t believe how tight his throat feels and how his eyes are watering. “ _Please_.” He gently helps Dean turn around and sit down. No matter how carefully Sam tries though, Dean groans softly as he relaxes against the soft leather.

Sam slams the door harder than he intended and he can hear Dean let out an annoyed groan as he mumbles “ _Sam_.”

“ _Goddammit_ , Dee. She’ll be fine.” Sam snaps as he drops down next to Dean and starts the engine. The loud rumble is overwhelmingly comforting and he can tell Dean loosens up a little more too.

“You’re too far, Sammy.” Dean whines, scooting closer. Sam rolls his eyes and wants to tell him that he’ll be more comfortable leaning against the door, but then again. The Winchester brothers have never been much for personal space. He lets Dean lean against him and puts his right arm around him, instead of opening his mouth. He won’t have to panic if he can’t tell if Dean’s breathing or not on the other side of the bench seat. Now he can just  _feel_  him breathing against him. It might be a little awkward to drive with one arm so tight around Dean’s shoulders, but he doesn’t have it in him to tell Dean to move.

They’re gonna be okay, right?

Sam looks over his shoulder as he backs up; fumbles with the gears with his left hand; puts the Impala into drive. His gaze drops down to Dean, who’s fighting to to keep his eyes from shutting. “I love you too, Dee,” he whispers into Dean’s hair before hitting the gas pedal.

They’re gonna be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i would...... love feedback. xxx


End file.
